We had a whole weekend without the kids a few weeks ago. Their grandma kidnapped them. I was going to chronicle it all for you hour-by-hour (What does a mom of two littles do with 72 hours alone? Fascinating, right?), but then I realized that it almost all boiled down to three activities:

Decluttering ALL of the kids' things.

Having really deep thoughts about how hard it is to figure out what you want to eat when you have unfettered choice.

Sitting up half the night reading books.

The best book was In the Time of the Butterflies, and even though you know from the start that everyone dies--that's not a spoiler, it's on the cover--oh my gawd, did I bawl like a baby at the end. I'm not going to tell you what to do, but reading a book in which a whole family of children become motherless, in the middle of the night, in your children's empty room (the light was bothering Sweet Husband in our room) is perchance not the best call. But, despite the tears, it was so great.

Also good?

America's First Daughter, which is historical fiction about Martha Jefferson Randolph. It, too, was a little sad. Particularly after (finally!) finishing Hamilton, it really sunk in how much the wives and children of those two founding fathers were impoverished for their menfolk's great works and famous names.

And then I read Wonder, which is about a little boy with a severe facial deformity trying to navigate middle school. This one was a little younger YA than I usually read, but the author was really good at writing middle schoolers realistically (if you tell me you weren't a little self-centered at that age, I'm going to call you a liar), but not obnoxiously, which is a very fine line.

(I enjoyed Wonder enough that I checked-out the follow-up book, Auggie & Me, but so far I'm kind of "meh" on that one. It may be just too much of the same thing.)

At some point in the weekend, I also picked up an old favorite, The Night CIrcus, just to read something sorta-kinda happier. Weirdly, I always find a ton of metaphors for being an attorney in that book, even though it has absolutely nothing to do with the law. The imagery is so beautiful, but at it's heart it's a story about a game that you just have to keep playing even though no one can win...which is spot on most days.

So yeah, that was my wild, childless weekend--I cleaned my basement and cleared out my to-read list. The basement will fill up again all too soon, but does anyone have any book recommendations for my poor, empty nightstand?

Prompted by a few stories, the Kid has been into all things sailing this month.

He's learned all of the words (bow, stern, starboard, come about); he's asking to look at pictures of different kinds of sails. He's in a full-blown knowledge quest.

"I wish we could go sailing," he wistfully sighed from the backseat of the car, a few weeks ago.

"I don't know about sailing," I replied. (Neither Sweet Husband, nor I, know how to sail.) "But I bet we could go canoeing?"

His response indicated that a canoe would be sufficient, so--post Little Miss's nap last Sunday afternoon--we headed out to a nearby lake and rented ourselves a canoe.

The Kid was hellbent on rowing. He was also very distracted by the shoreline and the waves and the bits of flotsam in the water. This was not the most productive combination--more than once Sweet Husband or I caught him just as he was about to dreamily let go of the oar--but it basically all worked out.

Little Miss was mostly content to ride along. Towards the end she got a bit wild with wanting to put her hands in the water, but fortunately she's not really big enough to tip a canoe. Very fortunately.

And then, when our time was up, we spread out a blanket and had a nibble-y picnic.

"We need to remember this one," Sweet Husband told me, as we sat in the shade. "We do," I smiled back. While I don't know how many more years our whole family will fit into one boat, I think we've found something all four of us really enjoy.

I used to do this with the Kid--take note of all the funny/absurd things he'd say in a week and then report them here--but it has saddened me to notice that fewer of these funny little speeches come out as he gets older.

Baby sister, on the other hand, is just the right age--all of the words and none of the social filters! Hence, I give you Little Miss, in quotes.

***

Learning good interpersonal skills at school....

Little Miss: If I hit [friend] he will not be my best friend anymore.

***

A good buddy in a storm....

Little Miss: If you need to go poopy just tell me and I will take you to the potty and help you wipe.

In a nice "weave a little, play a little" rhythm, we finished it over the course of a Saturday afternoon. It's been sitting on a shelf in the dining room ever since, and I keep meaning to pull it out and add a little more. It's one of those great projects that you can finish in an hour or putter at for a whole season.

I was honestly hoping to steer the kids to pick an inspirational word to spell out, but they both wanted to do their own names, so that's what we did. Little Miss needed a lot of help, of course, but the Kid got the concept pretty quickly and wore his bracelet everywhere until the string finally snapped.

Second, the recipe said to cut the lime in half, then slice it thinly. I did the best I could on the "thinly" part, but the end result was some big chunks of very hard lime. I love jam with a little texture--when I open a jar that has been reduced entirely to paste it always seems so joyless--but this was like chewing a cud.

Third, even though I reduced the limes in the recipe to 3, the ratio of pith to watermelon rind was off. I'm good with a bit of a bitter bite, but this stuff was so acrid that it kind of burned going down.

Fourth, the ratio of liquid to solids seemed to be off. I think of normal jam as fruit held in suspension by jelly. Here there was no jelly, just the fruit.

That all being said, the watermelon rind itself--i.e. the pieces of it that I picked out to taste--was actually very good. I'm considering trying again with some major modifications.

But I'm going to do a few batches of blueberry first. While it may not be as exotic, it turns out there's a reason I make it again year after year.